When my friend the Marketeer was pregnant I used to give her a lift home from work, giving her the chance to observe my driving skills and patient and calm approach to the traffic. It was a good experience for me, she has this saying, which although ostensibly about rush-hour journeys, is actually much broader than that:
"Everyone is just trying to get home"
Think about that for a moment.
I thought about that too when the driver of a fan from Archway Brickwork and Paving undertook me and then gave me the finger and a mouth full of abuse. I got some more of that when I OVERtook him at the next set of traffic lights. Before you ask, my behaviour was exemplary, I didn't say or do anything at all. But I guess he had a bad day, and after all, he was just trying to get home.....
Yesterday I had a fairly typical commuter run on the bike to work and back. Hills on the journey in, into a very stiff north-easterly breeze, and a very cold start too, practically winter weather. Quite the reverse on the way home. Off came the sleeves on the jacket, and the leg warmers and I was still boiling hot. Fortunately the wind was now behind me and I fair flew home along the flat at just under 17mph average. I missed a bit of recording on the way in because I forgot to switch Charlie back on at one point, but it's accurate enough.
These long weekends caused by Easter, Spring holiday and of course the Royal Wedding are great for extra cycling, as well as getting all those extra jobs done. I'm quite ambivalent about the wedding, pleased to have the holiday, but slightly annoyed that some of my money will inevitably be diverted to pay for it all. I was thinking back to 1981, the year West Ham lost the League cup final in dubious circumstances, (he was offside), my Dad painted the garage door and I did my O levels. And a terrible economic situation, and riots on the streets, and a bleak future ahead of us all. Government needs a bit of a distraction, let's have a circus to take their mind off it all.
Oh, and a royal wedding, yes that was supposed to be a love story too. What I'd really like to watch is the reception, rather than the service or the dress. See how the slightly edgier Middleton relatives cope with the wrong knife and fork, or whether there's any altercations and Fergie shouts "leave it Andrew he's not worth it". Probably not, but it it's an amusing image.
But maybe, just maybe, they are trying to get home too.
Friday 29 April 2011
Monday 25 April 2011
It's knowing that your door is always open and your path is free to walk
The Cotswold Spring Classic 2011, 170km version (about 107 miles in English).
Skip and I were discussing blogs, how hard it is to find something interesting about our riding or new or innovative.
Here are the facts: It was hard work, the hills were of the steep up and steep down variety (largely), with the odd gradual descent to make up for it. I rode every inch, unlike a lot of people who, perhaps wisely, walked up the 20% wall at the end of the ride, and then had the energy to finish OK. It was my first century ride of the year, so given I used the same nutrition strategy as last week (90 miles) it was no surprise that I was a gibbering idiot at , um, yes 91 miles.
Skip brought me home on her wheel, much as an indulgent parent collects their drunk teenage child from their first party, and calmly and lovingly puts them to bed with a paracetamol and a large glass of water. Once I'd had the cycling equivalent, a free pasta meal and a recovery shake, I felt much better. But I have learned my lesson (again).
Our mood was pretty relaxed for most of the ride, we had agreed to pootle, and that's pretty much how it panned out, it was a lovely day, gentle on my mind as these things go. Some of last week's White Horse route was involved as well as a section of a Cotswolds ride I did last summer, so familiar territory. And of course K1 was born and raised in Stroud, although I was on the Red Madone, but I knew from collecting K1 from the bike maternity ward, that Stroud is like Cornwall- no flat bits.
We even got given an Easter Egg by the organisers, one each, which just goes to show how healthy living is prompted by these events. I'm going to eat the lot in a minute. The most bizarre incident of the day was two (and it has to be said, Northern) tourists, out walking down the afore-mentioned 20% wall, deciding to take my photo as I cycled up it. No idea why, perhaps Skip can tell you:
http://www.thecyclingmayor.com/?m=201104
(a great review by a great blogger). Skip and I are both happily married to other people, but she has developed this worrying trait of saying "yes dear" to me as I blather on about bad driving, potholes, or Taylor Swift (don't ask). I know I can give the appearance of a grumpy old man, but inside this whinging exterior, is a youthful, optimistic person struggling to get out. So I am going to give you some unsolicited advice, that if followed, will gladden your heart.
Next weekend, or this week if you are off work, give that wedding business a miss, and go for a lovely walk in the wood. See some bluebells, have a picnic, and enjoy the fresh air, be gentle on your mind too, you might enjoy it. I know I'm going to.
Skip and I were discussing blogs, how hard it is to find something interesting about our riding or new or innovative.
Here are the facts: It was hard work, the hills were of the steep up and steep down variety (largely), with the odd gradual descent to make up for it. I rode every inch, unlike a lot of people who, perhaps wisely, walked up the 20% wall at the end of the ride, and then had the energy to finish OK. It was my first century ride of the year, so given I used the same nutrition strategy as last week (90 miles) it was no surprise that I was a gibbering idiot at , um, yes 91 miles.
Skip brought me home on her wheel, much as an indulgent parent collects their drunk teenage child from their first party, and calmly and lovingly puts them to bed with a paracetamol and a large glass of water. Once I'd had the cycling equivalent, a free pasta meal and a recovery shake, I felt much better. But I have learned my lesson (again).
Our mood was pretty relaxed for most of the ride, we had agreed to pootle, and that's pretty much how it panned out, it was a lovely day, gentle on my mind as these things go. Some of last week's White Horse route was involved as well as a section of a Cotswolds ride I did last summer, so familiar territory. And of course K1 was born and raised in Stroud, although I was on the Red Madone, but I knew from collecting K1 from the bike maternity ward, that Stroud is like Cornwall- no flat bits.
We even got given an Easter Egg by the organisers, one each, which just goes to show how healthy living is prompted by these events. I'm going to eat the lot in a minute. The most bizarre incident of the day was two (and it has to be said, Northern) tourists, out walking down the afore-mentioned 20% wall, deciding to take my photo as I cycled up it. No idea why, perhaps Skip can tell you:
http://www.thecyclingmayor.com/?m=201104
(a great review by a great blogger). Skip and I are both happily married to other people, but she has developed this worrying trait of saying "yes dear" to me as I blather on about bad driving, potholes, or Taylor Swift (don't ask). I know I can give the appearance of a grumpy old man, but inside this whinging exterior, is a youthful, optimistic person struggling to get out. So I am going to give you some unsolicited advice, that if followed, will gladden your heart.
Next weekend, or this week if you are off work, give that wedding business a miss, and go for a lovely walk in the wood. See some bluebells, have a picnic, and enjoy the fresh air, be gentle on your mind too, you might enjoy it. I know I'm going to.
Saturday 23 April 2011
Those were the happiest days of my life
OK, a bit of an exaggeration, the title. But honestly. For those who remember the Cadbury's Smash adverts in the seventies, all you need to do is paraphrase it to something like:
"They climb out of their beds. They put on all their clothes. They get into their metal boxes. And then they drive around the countryside".
A day like today demands to be a cycling day. No matter that Skip and I are off to Cirencester on Monday for the Cotswold Spring Classic, 106 miles of fun, the Axbridge Cycling Group was on. As well as Danny Rose, King of the Hill, Boots, Skip, Wonderboy and me, we were joined by one of those strangest of creatures, yes a triathlete, or TriC, as Skip has named her and I have plagiarised.
It was also St. Georges Day. As I awoke to the sound of people burbling on Radio 5, I dimly heard a conversation about how no-one knows how to celebrate it in England. Presumably in Barcelona they do. The Catholic Church even debates whether he existed, and it was a close run thing between him and St Edmund (of Bury St Edmunds, and definitely a real person) as to who would get the English patron saint gig.
So to honour the day I wore my cross of St George/3 Lions Foska top, with matching red shorts. A throwback to the days of the Raid Pyrenean too. And decided to salute whenever I saw a St George Cross, much to the hilarity of one and all. Bunny once asked me if I was a fan of Billy Bragg, "Of course" I said, "I thought you probably would be" he said in his very mild, slightly right of the centre ground way. One of the reasons is that Billy (another West Ham supporter btw) knows how to celebrate all that is good, non-jingoistic and radical about being English. Lollards, Levellers, Tolpuddle martyrs, Chartists, Suffragettes, they were a long line of radical English groups, but they didn't seek to exclude or discriminate or persecute. So there.
So the ride. Yes leisurely in the sunshine for the most part. Over to Glastonbury for coffee and then back, nothing too strenuous and man it was hot when you stopped. There was just a moment when boys started to be boys, but Skip got us all back on the chain gang with one blow of her acerbic tongue. Good on her too.
"They climb out of their beds. They put on all their clothes. They get into their metal boxes. And then they drive around the countryside".
A day like today demands to be a cycling day. No matter that Skip and I are off to Cirencester on Monday for the Cotswold Spring Classic, 106 miles of fun, the Axbridge Cycling Group was on. As well as Danny Rose, King of the Hill, Boots, Skip, Wonderboy and me, we were joined by one of those strangest of creatures, yes a triathlete, or TriC, as Skip has named her and I have plagiarised.
It was also St. Georges Day. As I awoke to the sound of people burbling on Radio 5, I dimly heard a conversation about how no-one knows how to celebrate it in England. Presumably in Barcelona they do. The Catholic Church even debates whether he existed, and it was a close run thing between him and St Edmund (of Bury St Edmunds, and definitely a real person) as to who would get the English patron saint gig.
So to honour the day I wore my cross of St George/3 Lions Foska top, with matching red shorts. A throwback to the days of the Raid Pyrenean too. And decided to salute whenever I saw a St George Cross, much to the hilarity of one and all. Bunny once asked me if I was a fan of Billy Bragg, "Of course" I said, "I thought you probably would be" he said in his very mild, slightly right of the centre ground way. One of the reasons is that Billy (another West Ham supporter btw) knows how to celebrate all that is good, non-jingoistic and radical about being English. Lollards, Levellers, Tolpuddle martyrs, Chartists, Suffragettes, they were a long line of radical English groups, but they didn't seek to exclude or discriminate or persecute. So there.
So the ride. Yes leisurely in the sunshine for the most part. Over to Glastonbury for coffee and then back, nothing too strenuous and man it was hot when you stopped. There was just a moment when boys started to be boys, but Skip got us all back on the chain gang with one blow of her acerbic tongue. Good on her too.
And yes that is my leg, with near perfect chain ring tattoo. Skip is going to get a real one of these at the end of the summer. I'm not, but it must say something about the ACG that a lot of us seem to get these. I wonder what?
Thursday 21 April 2011
Let it go
Parky. What a great word. Only the English language could have such a great expression to describe temperature. It's said that the Inuit have 50 words to describe snow, whereas we must have thousands to describe the weather. If you are one of my readers in, what we now describe as, most of the world, this may all be lost on you. We also find it remarkable to be having a mini heatwave in the middle of April. Temperatures are not tropical, but they are high, up into the 20s Centigrade.
But not at 6.30AM this morning, just after sunrise it was a bit nippy, misty, cool, requiring a lightweight jacket, but not cold enough for leg warmers or long fingered gloves. But beautiful too, the sun was a sight to behold as it rose above the mist and the hills, and as I cycled up Long Lane out of Wrington I was struck by how lovely the landscape round here is. If you are in most of the world you should come and have a holiday in North Somerset. Hire a bike from the Leadman at Cheddar cycle store.
Where the Red madone is going first thing on Saturday. When I was a kid I had a reputation for trying to fix things that were slightly broken and making them considerably worse. Well my chain was rubbing against my front cage and you can guess the rest. So I was back on K1 today which made a pleasant change.
I also decided to do the full Dundry Hill, and even went exploring along Whitchurch Lane. Big mistake. I have never seen a country road with so much glass on it. All along the strip down the middle, it's a single track road, and in patches at the sides. Such a shame because the views from up there are marvellous, but I'll never ride up there again, pleased to get away with it today. It's also a rat run, which was very nervy on the 18% descent, with a blind bend and a car coming up fast towards me.
On the ride home, where it was distinctly hot, the hottest ride of the year by far, I decided to take a wrong turn, and head out across Kenn Moor for some time trial practice. The sharp-eyed will see that the mileage is a tantalising 49.9. I knew this was going to happen because I know how far from home I am at certain points on the route. That I chose to do nothing about it is a sign of progress. All I have to do now is have a really enjoyable ride in the Cotswold Spring Classic. It's a bad sign that I'm thinking about all the classifications for Monday, I need Skip to keep me in check, and help me to take this enjoying business seriously.
But not at 6.30AM this morning, just after sunrise it was a bit nippy, misty, cool, requiring a lightweight jacket, but not cold enough for leg warmers or long fingered gloves. But beautiful too, the sun was a sight to behold as it rose above the mist and the hills, and as I cycled up Long Lane out of Wrington I was struck by how lovely the landscape round here is. If you are in most of the world you should come and have a holiday in North Somerset. Hire a bike from the Leadman at Cheddar cycle store.
Where the Red madone is going first thing on Saturday. When I was a kid I had a reputation for trying to fix things that were slightly broken and making them considerably worse. Well my chain was rubbing against my front cage and you can guess the rest. So I was back on K1 today which made a pleasant change.
I also decided to do the full Dundry Hill, and even went exploring along Whitchurch Lane. Big mistake. I have never seen a country road with so much glass on it. All along the strip down the middle, it's a single track road, and in patches at the sides. Such a shame because the views from up there are marvellous, but I'll never ride up there again, pleased to get away with it today. It's also a rat run, which was very nervy on the 18% descent, with a blind bend and a car coming up fast towards me.
On the ride home, where it was distinctly hot, the hottest ride of the year by far, I decided to take a wrong turn, and head out across Kenn Moor for some time trial practice. The sharp-eyed will see that the mileage is a tantalising 49.9. I knew this was going to happen because I know how far from home I am at certain points on the route. That I chose to do nothing about it is a sign of progress. All I have to do now is have a really enjoyable ride in the Cotswold Spring Classic. It's a bad sign that I'm thinking about all the classifications for Monday, I need Skip to keep me in check, and help me to take this enjoying business seriously.
Sunday 17 April 2011
It's only two years ago, the man with the suit and the pace
Exactly two years ago today I was having the most epiphanous (is that a word?) day I had ever had in my life. It was Day 9 (Geordie accent) on the Bunny and my Land's End to John O' Groats ride, from Connel (just north of Oban) to Inverness. 106 miles, give or take, in a north-easterly direction up the giant wind tunnel known as the Great Glen. Into a howling wind. All day, after having cycled about 700 miles in 8 consecutive days, hideously under prepared, and injured in knee and neck. The only good thing going for that day was it wasn't raining. It was so bad you had to pedal downhill to get anywhere and I was lucky to break 10 mph on the flat.
At around 5PM, I'd had enough, I pulled into the Fort Augustus Health Centre car park, and figured they must have cortisone in there, I'll persuade them to give a random non-local Englishman an injection to cope with the pain. Umm, quickly realised that wouldn't wash. There was nothing for it, I'll bail, this is horrible. Then I thought, hold on, when will I get the chance to do this again? And anyway it's only 34 miles to Inverness, pasta, a shower and a bed. Then tomorrow is the last day, and I have come too far, in all senses of the word to give up. And in any case, I don't give up. As Bunny says, I am the living embodiment of KBO.
So I ground out the miles, arrived in the gathering gloom, stuffed my face with pasta, and blasted the final 123 miles the next day. And learned a thing or two about myself. Apart from don't ever think of walking into health centres in sweaty lycra and ask for drugs, or that I'm made of sterner stuff than I gave myself credit for. No I learned the visceral meaning of the six Ps. It's a training term.
So today, the White Horse challenge. I had a plan. Pedal like fudge and don't stop. There were a few nuances to it, but that was the basis of it. Eat properly in the days leading up to an event, and rest properly, I have found a good night's sleep really does help, it's not just something your parents say. I also did my best to stay with the fastest group I could for the first 25 miles on the flatter sections (see me lurking at the back in the photo, hanging on for dear life), and was fortunate to buddy up and take my turn with a couple of others on the more draggy uphill bits. Blast down the safe hills, and unlike the chap who decided to face-plant the floor, take it easy on the dangerous descents.
As you know I did the maths (note "s") on Friday, but had another realisation, I just had to be a little bit faster than last year on every section, marginal gains see. And be lucky on the puncture and mechanical front.
I think the scenery was as wonderful this year as it was last year, it was certainly a nicer day, in fact it was hot by the end. I didn't really look too much to be honest, although I saw the White Horses as I cycled up the hills.(If you want a description of the sights and route, see last year on 25 April.) And as I took the briefest of stops at the two feedstops, I was absolutely hanging by the time I got to White Horse Hill, the final big climb. They had a special timing mat for that one hill, for me they really shouldn't have bothered, it must be embarrassing. I relied on gels (I had four of them, and I certainly am paying that price this evening) But on arrival back at the lovely Shrivenham village hall, I had a new experience. The sight of a full car park. One or two had gone, but my time, just under 5-09 including all stops, 5-07-38 without stops, for an average speed of 17.4 mph, means that I got all three objectives for the day, including that gold standard.
It was always on really, I just had to keep up the pace and not worry about fading. Adrenaline tends to take over for me in the last five miles, so once I'd done the last hill I knew it was in the bag. My heart did skip a beat when I rounded a corner 15 miles from home and the bike stopped moving. It was only the chain falling off but if I'd had any mechanical fault, that would have been it, little margin for error. So to beat the time of last year by 33 minutes shows how far I have come, last year I was pleased as punch to get silver, today it would have been a disappointment.
Not sure if I'll do it again, everything went right today, and I could enter on a day of appalling weather and have no chance. It's still the best ride you can do I think, the best scenery, lovely people, no idiotic cycling at all, I think it attracts an older clientele, or maybe one that just knows not to go into health centres and make stupid requests.
http://ridewithgps.com/trips/219891
Friday 15 April 2011
This crazy world that we live in will keep on spinning around
If you are a similar type of parent as me, you are probably used to your children reminding you when you do things you have told them not to, or not done the things you tell THEM to do. As I am also in the training business, this happens to me all the time at work, as well as when I sanctimoniously pass on my words of folksy wisdom to others. Like an Australian killing stick they keep on coming right back at me.
This coming Sunday I'm off to do the White Horse challenge, a delightful ride that circumnavigates Swindon, and eponymously goes past four iconic chalk horses. And you know how much I love a good chalk carving, and the Uffington White horse is the best bar none. You can keep your Long Man of Wilmington and Cerne Abbas Giant. Where else could you cycle up Dragon Hill and pass an Iron Age hill fort? Eh?
Last time I did this ride it all went rather well and I got a silver classification and was only 22 minutes off gold. So I had been telling anyone who would listen that was one of my goals for the year. Until today. I've been ill for the best part of two weeks, and though now largely recovered my peak flow (lung capacity measure nothing to down with down there) is still down at 430. To put that in perspective normal for me is around 480, whereas normal for any other 46 year old man would be about 600. So "chesty" sums it up.
And then I did the maths. (note the "s"). I have to improve by 6.5%, 22 minutes, do an average speed I have never done before, do each mile about 15 seconds faster than last year. Last year I only stopped for 12 minutes at all junctions, the two feedstops and all other points. The doubts were creeping in.
So I sent Skip a text, and she reminded me of a few motivational facts, told me, in effect, to re-frame a few things, and add just go for it, what have I got to lose? This dose of my own medicine induced a bout of positive thinking. This year is supposed to be all about enjoyment of cycling first and foremost, so that's what I'll concentrate on. And as today was National Happiness Day, I'll add a secondary objective to be faster than last year, and a tertiary one to get a gold time. We'll see how I go.
If today's ride is anything to go by it should be a good day. I'm taking the Red madone as I did today, I think it is quicker than K-1, and the weather forecast is looking up. I did a couple of small hills on the way into work, and came home along the flattish A370. As I was slowly down for a traffic light, which predictably turned green, I was passed by another roadie, skinny as a beanpole with an enormous backpack on. Going like the clappers too, so perfect for a free draft for a couple of miles until our paths diverged.
It was also pretty cool, as in cold rather than trendy, first thing, given I leave at 6.30 it is always going to be until the summer at least. So it was leg warmers and detachable arm time again. Still, I didn't need lights today, which is a real sign that summer is on the way, and I was home by 7PM too.
It was also the first time I have enjoyed riding for a couple of weeks, not that i have done much of it. My mood's been a bit down of late, been a bit self-absorbed. It's amazing what a carbon frame and a couple of spinning wheels can do for me, easily pleased. Now if that isn't positive thinking I don't know what is.
And now I've managed to post a proper link, though I have no idea how I did that. Here is a proper Charlie link:
http://ridewithgps.com/routes/362834
This coming Sunday I'm off to do the White Horse challenge, a delightful ride that circumnavigates Swindon, and eponymously goes past four iconic chalk horses. And you know how much I love a good chalk carving, and the Uffington White horse is the best bar none. You can keep your Long Man of Wilmington and Cerne Abbas Giant. Where else could you cycle up Dragon Hill and pass an Iron Age hill fort? Eh?
Last time I did this ride it all went rather well and I got a silver classification and was only 22 minutes off gold. So I had been telling anyone who would listen that was one of my goals for the year. Until today. I've been ill for the best part of two weeks, and though now largely recovered my peak flow (lung capacity measure nothing to down with down there) is still down at 430. To put that in perspective normal for me is around 480, whereas normal for any other 46 year old man would be about 600. So "chesty" sums it up.
And then I did the maths. (note the "s"). I have to improve by 6.5%, 22 minutes, do an average speed I have never done before, do each mile about 15 seconds faster than last year. Last year I only stopped for 12 minutes at all junctions, the two feedstops and all other points. The doubts were creeping in.
So I sent Skip a text, and she reminded me of a few motivational facts, told me, in effect, to re-frame a few things, and add just go for it, what have I got to lose? This dose of my own medicine induced a bout of positive thinking. This year is supposed to be all about enjoyment of cycling first and foremost, so that's what I'll concentrate on. And as today was National Happiness Day, I'll add a secondary objective to be faster than last year, and a tertiary one to get a gold time. We'll see how I go.
If today's ride is anything to go by it should be a good day. I'm taking the Red madone as I did today, I think it is quicker than K-1, and the weather forecast is looking up. I did a couple of small hills on the way into work, and came home along the flattish A370. As I was slowly down for a traffic light, which predictably turned green, I was passed by another roadie, skinny as a beanpole with an enormous backpack on. Going like the clappers too, so perfect for a free draft for a couple of miles until our paths diverged.
It was also pretty cool, as in cold rather than trendy, first thing, given I leave at 6.30 it is always going to be until the summer at least. So it was leg warmers and detachable arm time again. Still, I didn't need lights today, which is a real sign that summer is on the way, and I was home by 7PM too.
It was also the first time I have enjoyed riding for a couple of weeks, not that i have done much of it. My mood's been a bit down of late, been a bit self-absorbed. It's amazing what a carbon frame and a couple of spinning wheels can do for me, easily pleased. Now if that isn't positive thinking I don't know what is.
And now I've managed to post a proper link, though I have no idea how I did that. Here is a proper Charlie link:
http://ridewithgps.com/routes/362834
Sunday 10 April 2011
The sunlight hurts my eyes
I was off work sick on Friday. It was a beautiful and very sunny day, and when I went to get up to cycle to work I found two things had happened to my body. One it seemed to be strapped to the mattress, although I couldn't see the straps, but something was making it extraordinarily difficult to get out of bed.
That was soon cured however by an equal and opposite compulsion to exit the bedroom with sudden alacrity and move into the smallest room as fast as I could. These two forces, the effects of the virus that has invaded my tonsils, and something altogether more unmentionable, meant I spent the whole day looking out of two windows, wishing I was cycling.
I was still ill yesterday when we went to my Parents' house in Dorset, I really think I should start making my own paracetamol, I'm going through a packet a day. And I was still ill today, although I feel better than I did at 7.45 this morning, when I knew I had to go down to Axbridge in case anyone was joining the ride I was supposed to be leading. No-one had said they were coming, but we now have all kinds of insurance-related issues if an officially designated ride leader isn't there. I won't go on, it's too boring to type. I made myself go cycling.
I'm not sure if it was a good idea or not. Half way up the hill out of Clewer, (it may be John's hill) I thought it wasn't as I left my breakfast by the side of the road. Good job I was on my own really. In fact I'm not sure if it was an ACG ride or a solo ride, how will I classify it in my very sad spreadsheet?
So I did a loop round the levels then over Brent Knoll, up the coast to the Brean beach cafe, then back via Canada Coombe and the Banwell caves (not actually inside them, past them). It was very sunny, and (whispers quietly) hot. So much so that I think I'm going to need suncream next week for the White Horse Challenge. There you go, just ruined the weekend weather for next week.
It was a lovely day as well, but there didn't seem to be many cyclists out, maybe they are all doing events like Skip who did a sportive today, or Bunny who did a duatholon yesterday. I still don't know why it's called that when there are three legs to it, I know there are two sports, but the taxonomy seems all wrong. I need to get out more.
But fair play to them both, Bunny as usual is modestly stomping up whichever leader board he's entered for, and Skip had a fantastic performance in a long sportive in the south east. I had hopes of a Gold for next week, but that would mean I need to do the 150km in sub 5 hours 20, and with this virus being hard to shake, I may just settle for enjoying myself, particularly as it's going to be pouring with rain.
On the subject of sad statistics, my K-1 odometer reads 7000.0 miles as of today. Which is quite something in a little under two years. I've done mileage on the other bikes and a hire bike as well, but I think that's about the equivalent of cycling to Santiago in Chile, assuming you could cycle across the ocean. Well, all right, I know it is because I googled it, but it's a fair way in any direction. I shall be watching closely for the moment it hits all the sevens. Ushuia in case you were wondering, always wanted to go to Tierra del Fuego.
Sorry for the moaning, my usual cheerful self will be back next week.
http://ridewithgps.com/trips/212983
That was soon cured however by an equal and opposite compulsion to exit the bedroom with sudden alacrity and move into the smallest room as fast as I could. These two forces, the effects of the virus that has invaded my tonsils, and something altogether more unmentionable, meant I spent the whole day looking out of two windows, wishing I was cycling.
I was still ill yesterday when we went to my Parents' house in Dorset, I really think I should start making my own paracetamol, I'm going through a packet a day. And I was still ill today, although I feel better than I did at 7.45 this morning, when I knew I had to go down to Axbridge in case anyone was joining the ride I was supposed to be leading. No-one had said they were coming, but we now have all kinds of insurance-related issues if an officially designated ride leader isn't there. I won't go on, it's too boring to type. I made myself go cycling.
I'm not sure if it was a good idea or not. Half way up the hill out of Clewer, (it may be John's hill) I thought it wasn't as I left my breakfast by the side of the road. Good job I was on my own really. In fact I'm not sure if it was an ACG ride or a solo ride, how will I classify it in my very sad spreadsheet?
So I did a loop round the levels then over Brent Knoll, up the coast to the Brean beach cafe, then back via Canada Coombe and the Banwell caves (not actually inside them, past them). It was very sunny, and (whispers quietly) hot. So much so that I think I'm going to need suncream next week for the White Horse Challenge. There you go, just ruined the weekend weather for next week.
It was a lovely day as well, but there didn't seem to be many cyclists out, maybe they are all doing events like Skip who did a sportive today, or Bunny who did a duatholon yesterday. I still don't know why it's called that when there are three legs to it, I know there are two sports, but the taxonomy seems all wrong. I need to get out more.
But fair play to them both, Bunny as usual is modestly stomping up whichever leader board he's entered for, and Skip had a fantastic performance in a long sportive in the south east. I had hopes of a Gold for next week, but that would mean I need to do the 150km in sub 5 hours 20, and with this virus being hard to shake, I may just settle for enjoying myself, particularly as it's going to be pouring with rain.
On the subject of sad statistics, my K-1 odometer reads 7000.0 miles as of today. Which is quite something in a little under two years. I've done mileage on the other bikes and a hire bike as well, but I think that's about the equivalent of cycling to Santiago in Chile, assuming you could cycle across the ocean. Well, all right, I know it is because I googled it, but it's a fair way in any direction. I shall be watching closely for the moment it hits all the sevens. Ushuia in case you were wondering, always wanted to go to Tierra del Fuego.
Sorry for the moaning, my usual cheerful self will be back next week.
http://ridewithgps.com/trips/212983
Sunday 3 April 2011
We get to carry each other
I'm not one for promoting the use of performance-enhancing drugs, but today I'll make an exception. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you "Sainsbury's Paracetamol plus" without which today's ride would not have been possible.
I awoke to find that my tonsils had re-invented themselves in the night, and were now determined to be squidgy golf balls, dangling in my reddish throat. Now I understand yesterday's fatigue. The sensible course of action may have been to hole up in bed, with hot lemon and a good book, but that would underestimate the power of paracetamol combined with a dose of caffeine.
Skip didn't take much persuading to go to Glastonbury rather than to Bruton via Shipham gorge, and after the first 10 miles or so I started to feel slightly less than terrible. (This of course is man-wussiness of the highest order, but then I am allowed to moan on my own blog). I thought I might be following her wheel all morning, so it was good to actually start to feel better as the ride went on, especially after some more caffeine, courtesy of Heaphy's in Glasto, and some lovely lemon cake. For the most part we rode round side by side, chatting and just enjoying ourselves, which is what it should be about isn't it?
It turned into a lovely ride, as after coffee we wheeled round through Shapwick and Edington, Burtle and Mark, and back past Badgworth Arena and down Notting Hill. This is a lovely descent as it is generally enclosed by trees so has little wind, and is fairly straight with a nice run-out at the bottom. I decided to push the bike a bit and was suitably adrenalised when my back wheel jumped a bit. Still I topped over 42mph, not the fastest of the season but OK.
The weather was OK too, the wind dropped, the sun came out fleetingly but there was no rain, and for one last time I have decided against washing the bike. I promise to do it after the ACG ride next Sunday!
http://ridewithgps.com/routes/342011
I awoke to find that my tonsils had re-invented themselves in the night, and were now determined to be squidgy golf balls, dangling in my reddish throat. Now I understand yesterday's fatigue. The sensible course of action may have been to hole up in bed, with hot lemon and a good book, but that would underestimate the power of paracetamol combined with a dose of caffeine.
Skip didn't take much persuading to go to Glastonbury rather than to Bruton via Shipham gorge, and after the first 10 miles or so I started to feel slightly less than terrible. (This of course is man-wussiness of the highest order, but then I am allowed to moan on my own blog). I thought I might be following her wheel all morning, so it was good to actually start to feel better as the ride went on, especially after some more caffeine, courtesy of Heaphy's in Glasto, and some lovely lemon cake. For the most part we rode round side by side, chatting and just enjoying ourselves, which is what it should be about isn't it?
It turned into a lovely ride, as after coffee we wheeled round through Shapwick and Edington, Burtle and Mark, and back past Badgworth Arena and down Notting Hill. This is a lovely descent as it is generally enclosed by trees so has little wind, and is fairly straight with a nice run-out at the bottom. I decided to push the bike a bit and was suitably adrenalised when my back wheel jumped a bit. Still I topped over 42mph, not the fastest of the season but OK.
The weather was OK too, the wind dropped, the sun came out fleetingly but there was no rain, and for one last time I have decided against washing the bike. I promise to do it after the ACG ride next Sunday!
http://ridewithgps.com/routes/342011
Saturday 2 April 2011
Don't look back you can never look back
I didn't ride to work today, so when Mrs Mendip Rouleur said she needed to go into Weston to pick up some train tickets, I volunteered to go for her, it would give me a chance to do a quick loop and stretch my legs. Also work out the frustrations I have been feeling this week (steady) about a number of work issues, and the sad capitulation I had just witnessed on the TV. 2-0 up at half time? I ask you, Year 5 could have put up more of a fight, it's only Wayne Rooney.
I'm going to make another confession. I wore, (imagine conspiratorial whisper) a "hi-viz" gilet. Yellow. Two reasons, the sartorial obviously, it matched the yellow top (almost) but also I know what Weston is like at the best of times, and Saturday afternoon is not the best of times. I wanted to give myself a fighting (though maybe that is an inappropriate word on reflection) chance of survival. Clearly it worked but there were a few dodgy moments with Subarus, souped-up Saxos, that sort of thing. As well as the the usual roll of SMIDSY incidents.
The trip also enabled me to swing by the Toyota garage and have a look at possible new cars, for my beloved, very un-green and great-in-the-snow Rav-4 needs work doing to it that will cost more than its value. Gulp. As Mrs Mendip Rouleur says, no-one has died (I probably won't reflect that one back to her next time she has a lack of perspective, I may be clever but I'm not too clever for my own good), so it's just a case of getting it sorted really. Clearly the car will need to be big enough to fit at least one bike inside, and preferably two. Priorities after all.
It was pretty windy, and chilly on the way there, glad I had the gilet really. But it won't be long until the local idiots are joined by the boys of summer, and Weston will be very unsafe territory for cyclists. I was going to keep it flat but decided to give Canada Coombe a go, as well as a new GPS recording site, which has a natty feature of telling you the gradient at a given point on the route, you have to roll the mouse over the elevation profile. The maximum today was about 18% if you can't be bothered to do that.
I also feel a bit sluggish and under the weather. I thought it might be because of not riding for a while, but as I feel exhausted after only 25 miles, I think I may have a bug. Great time to ride 60 miles to Bruton and back tomorrow then.
Charlie's route below:
http://ridewithgps.com/trips/205697
I'm going to make another confession. I wore, (imagine conspiratorial whisper) a "hi-viz" gilet. Yellow. Two reasons, the sartorial obviously, it matched the yellow top (almost) but also I know what Weston is like at the best of times, and Saturday afternoon is not the best of times. I wanted to give myself a fighting (though maybe that is an inappropriate word on reflection) chance of survival. Clearly it worked but there were a few dodgy moments with Subarus, souped-up Saxos, that sort of thing. As well as the the usual roll of SMIDSY incidents.
The trip also enabled me to swing by the Toyota garage and have a look at possible new cars, for my beloved, very un-green and great-in-the-snow Rav-4 needs work doing to it that will cost more than its value. Gulp. As Mrs Mendip Rouleur says, no-one has died (I probably won't reflect that one back to her next time she has a lack of perspective, I may be clever but I'm not too clever for my own good), so it's just a case of getting it sorted really. Clearly the car will need to be big enough to fit at least one bike inside, and preferably two. Priorities after all.
It was pretty windy, and chilly on the way there, glad I had the gilet really. But it won't be long until the local idiots are joined by the boys of summer, and Weston will be very unsafe territory for cyclists. I was going to keep it flat but decided to give Canada Coombe a go, as well as a new GPS recording site, which has a natty feature of telling you the gradient at a given point on the route, you have to roll the mouse over the elevation profile. The maximum today was about 18% if you can't be bothered to do that.
I also feel a bit sluggish and under the weather. I thought it might be because of not riding for a while, but as I feel exhausted after only 25 miles, I think I may have a bug. Great time to ride 60 miles to Bruton and back tomorrow then.
Charlie's route below:
http://ridewithgps.com/trips/205697
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